A Force Unleashed
by Ia Aira
Summary: As you feel his heart stop, something inside you snaps, unleashing a surge of power you've never felt before. It's so deliciously warm, intoxicating, filling you with a new confidence. Then it offers you a hand, beckoning, inviting... "Come to us, Ib." AU, Ib/Star Wars. Force-sensitive!Ib & Mary, Suitless!Vader. Warning: Dark. Mary/Vader in later chapters.


**Disclaimer: kouri owns Ib. Disney and Lucasfilm own Star Wars. What does Aira own? Nothing. *weeps***

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A Force Unleashed

by Aira

Prologue

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"Thanks, Garry!"

When the room rumbles and the light dims, Mary flees.

And now you are running for your life yet again, blood rushing in your ears. Garry is right beside you, holding your hand and panting, barely avoiding the little monsters out for their blood.

Driven by the desperation to get Garry's rose back, you find yourself running _upupup_ the roughly-drawn crayon staircase, your new friend—your best friend—in tow. You may be young, but you know what could happen when your rose, your _life_, is ripped away, _oh Mary, whywhywhydidyoudothis?!_ You seethe as your eyes catch a blue petal and another and another—stars, please let me save him...

But you are too late. Just ten-or-so meters to the next bend, Garry stumbles with a heart-wrenching gasp. You whirl to see him fall... "No! Garry!" _NopleasedontdieIloveyou—_

"Ib," he says weakly as you rest his freezing cold body to the nearby wall. "Go on ahead..."

You can't believe it, how could he do this after all they went through? "No!" you scream, shaking him. His seen gray eye glazes, the eyelid drooping, but you will not take it. "Look at me, Garry!"

"No, Ib..." he says, his usually warm, kind voice reduced to a lifeless whisper. "Save yourself... This cursed... gallery... is no place... for a sweet... girl like you..."

Sweet? You think, appalled. You are no longer sweet... You saw you killed you ran you lied you're scarred for life and all you want to do is go back home. "No, Garry, you promised! We'll get out, we'll go places and eat macaroons and—and—" Tears spring from your eyes, and you start choking on a huge lump in your throat. Please, Garry!

"Please, Ib... I'd like to sleep for a while..." Garry interrupts, a long, calloused finger caressing your cheek. "If you need me... just call my name... and I'll come running..."

His words offer no consolation. You only cry louder and louder, your tears soaking his already damp chest... "Garry, no," you pray, "no, no, no..."

But then, as you feel his heart stop, something inside you snaps, unleashing a surge of power you've never felt before. It invigorates you more than any kind of ethereal water you feed your rose. It's so deliciously warm, intoxicating, and it fills you with confidence. Then it offers you a hand, more subtle than those of the gallery's, beckoning, inviting you to avenge Garry's death. _Come to us, Ib,_ it purrs, its million voices echoing in her rapidly breaking mind, _make her pay._

And you take it. You eat Garry's candy, the sour-sweet lemon stinging your tongue, and thrust his lighter into your lone pocket.

With a kiss to his lavender head, you rise, your eyes blazing gold.

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Mary's room reflected its owner's vile nature—it is dark, twisted, and absolutely disgusting. Mannequin heads and ugly blue dolls litter the pitch black floor, and you rip them apart. Shards of glass and red paint stain your clothes, but you don't care. You don't leave any of her stupid crayons and drawing books, either, because Mary is a blasted, evil liar. Mary murdered Garry and left her alone. She deserves nothing short of an agonizing death, and you shall be her personal escort to Hell.

Suddenly her grating voice rings in the air. _Perfect._ "Ib! What are you doing here?!"

"Mary," you snarl, clutching Garry's lighter as one holds on to a most prized weapon. "You'll pay for what you've done!"

Her bright blue eyes widen in incredulity. "But Garry's just an old creep! You don't need him, Ib!" A beaming smile. "I'm your bestest friend, remember?"

"No," you reply, your voice an eerie whisper.

Without preamble, Mary lunges herself at you, her palette knife repeatedly stabbing empty air as you dodge and block her with surprising ease.

When she trips on something that might have been a mannequin head, you seize the opportunity, bolting to her painting in superhuman speed, bent on destroying Guertena's last work once and for all. "For Garry," you vow as your finger flicks open the lighter, igniting it...

And before you know it, the world fades to black.

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**Hi guys! My first Ib fic here, and the darkest I've written :)**

**Confused? So in this AU, Ib and Garry grew close, but they were very destructive. Chalk it to paranoia.**

**Tell me what you think! Silent support is appreciated as well! :D**

**See you soon,**

**Aira**


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